It's a Secret
by Echo-AU
Summary: Regina has a secret she is desperate for Emma to know - but is doing her best to distract her from ever finding out.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

****** A/N: A shout out to Nat for taking time out of her busy schedule to read over this and make sure it was good enough to post :) Thanks!**

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The bed is comfortable and the pillow feels soft against her face as she smiles self-indulgently behind closed eyes; slender fingers ghost against her cheek, tucking a few stray locks of hair back behind her ear. The fingers meld in to a hand, cupping her jaw as a thumb circles over her skin just below her eye. It's only when she feels warm breath against her lips that she opens heavy lids, catching deep chestnut coloured eyes with her own.

She notices a brief, devilish smile cross lipstick-coated lips before her own mouth is being captured; it is almost enough to take her breath away as her body responds, subconsciously moving towards the woman beside her, sliding easily under white Egyptian cotton sheets. There is a sharp pain as teeth nip at her lower lip; before the gasp has even left her mouth, a soft, wet tongue is swiping over the same, tender spot, parting her lips and delving in, tasting her. The tongue rubs along her teeth, brushes against her own and there is the taste of expensive wine against it.

She moves closer, wrapping an arm around smooth, olive skin; bodies pressed together as hearts beat in time, synchronized as if they were one. Her skin tingles in anticipation as a hand trails its way down over her ribs; feather light touches that leave her aching for more. The hand stops, resting against her hip as she feels fingers dig ever so slightly, the barest pull to bring her closer still.

Emma's head falls back as her eyes close in ecstasy; wet, open-mouthed kisses are placed against her neck and she feels teeth graze their way down her sensitive flesh. The hand on her hip applies pressure, urging her to roll on to her back as the dark haired beauty begins to move over her; she finds herself helpless to resist. The kisses trail back up to her ear, that warm tongue swiping at the shell; a shiver runs through her body.

The breath is warm against her ear as fingers trace lightly over the skin of her stomach, muscles quivering beneath the touch.

"There's something I want you to know," Regina murmurs breathlessly in to her ear, and Emma turns forest green eyes up to the woman above her.

Those feather light touches brush against the underside of her right breast, the sensitive skin itches for more contact. She arches her back but only feels the fingers retreat as she strives for more.

"What do you want me to know?" she asks, her voice gravelly with growing desire. She sees the smallest flash of ... _something_ ... cross Regina's face before that devilish grin once more plays upon her lips.

"It's a secret."

Lips and tongue are moving down her heated body once more, teeth sinking in to her shoulder hard enough to make her squirm.

"Tell me," she exhales as her fingers tangle in soft, brown locks. Beneath her hand, she feels the subtle shake of Regina's head, her request remaining unanswered.

A warm tongue laves over the sore point on her shoulder as the palm of a hand brushes over her breast before cupping it; a thumb tracing circles over a hardened nipple leaves her groaning in pleasure. It is almost enough to distract her.

"Do you want me to guess?" And she catches Regina's eyes as they flicker briefly to her own in silent acknowledgement before her head dips again. The soft licks that trail lower cause her to arch her back once more into an eager, accommodating mouth. Her fingers hold tightly to the head at her chest, half in an unspoken plea, and half in command.

A deep moan escapes her throat as lips and tongue move softly over her nipple; a perfect counterpoint to the sharp, intermittent pinches she is receiving on the other one - both shooting electricity through her body to pool between her legs.

"Secretly," she starts, a grin on her lips as her body rises to press against the brunette above her, "secretly, you love my red jacket."

There is a short bark of laughter as she sees Regina lift her head from her chest.

"Hardly," comes the sarcastic reply.

"Hey now, there's nothing wrong with..." she is cut off as she hisses, feeling the sting of teeth at the side of her breast; without a doubt that will have left a mark. Even so, she is left panting as the hand leaves her breast and descends lower on her body, brushing over the soft, wet curls between her legs. She tries to raise her hips, but Regina is quicker, shifting part of her weight on top, effectively pinning her down as fingers move further from where she wants them most.

"No," Emma hears in response to her movement, the brunette half raising her head, "concentrate, Miss Swan."

The fingers teasing at the inside of her thigh make it difficult for her to focus and she feels her muscles twitching, aching to buck against the woman above her. She attempts to move slightly, but her only reward is a growl of warning and a sharp nip at her sensitive flesh. Another hiss escapes her lips before she is aware she's doing it.

"Secretly, you love biting," she says when the sting has been replaced with the swipe of a warm tongue.

"That's not a secret," Regina replies before she bites again, lower this time, emphasizing the point.

The hand on her thigh trails higher, cupping her with the lightest pressure; it's the sweetest agony. She watches as Regina props herself up on one elbow to look deeply in her eyes and is taken aback by how dark with desire those eyes have become. A shiver runs down her spine at the look of want she sees so openly displayed before her. Without thinking, she runs a hand down the smooth jaw line of olive skin, sighing in reverence of such beauty.

"Last chance, Miss Swan." There's a note of warning in that voice mingled with a hint of teasing and a touch of promise. The palm of her hand is kissed and another spark of electricity is shooting through her.

"Last chance before what?" she challenges, the tip of her tongue licking over her lower lip before her teeth pull across it. The taste of lipstick is still fresh upon it.

"Before it's my turn." A mischievous grin spreads across the brunette's face that is matched by the sparkle in her eyes, a sight that causes Emma's breath to catch in her throat.

There's a moment where Emma is slightly puzzled, but it disappears quickly as she feels a finger slip inside her wet folds, stroking up and over her clit before running back down again. Her toes curl and her eyes flutter closed briefly at the touch, not enough friction to do anything but moan and writhe upon the bed.

"Fuck," Regina exhales in what seems to be a mixture of surprise and reverence. "Gods, you're so wet."

She wants to reach down and grab Regina's wrist, pull her in to where she so desperately needs her - but this torture is exquisite and there is such a look of awe on the older woman's face she can't bring herself to interrupt. Those lipstick-coated lips soon quirk in to a grin of satisfaction and she feels as a single finger pushes shallowly within her, barely giving her what she needs.

Then, without warning, those lips are at her ear, nipping and nibbling at her lobe, and she feels her body react of its own free will, arching as best it can against the woman pinning her down.

"I like it that you're this wet," Regina begins, voice low and husky, "and it's all for me."

A moan of frustration and desire escapes from her and is quickly swallowed by the dark-haired beauty above her as her lips are captured once more in a searing kiss that ends all too soon for her liking.

"Guess, Miss Swan." Regina breathes the words so softly, challenging her.

As Emma considers the answer she feels a slender finger slip deep within her, only to twist and slide back out - setting an excruciatingly slow rhythm that causes her stomach to knot deliciously and another groan to be wrenched from her throat.

"Or do you give up?" The question is accentuated with the swipe of a thumb across Emma's clit.

She looks up into dark, soulful eyes and the ghost of an expression crosses those perfect features. Emma can see it, Regina doesn't want her to give up. Whatever this is, she knows it must be important.

"Never," she grinds out between clenched teeth; losing herself momentarily in hedonistic delight.

It's all a distraction, she knows, and this must be a secret worth discovering if Regina is going to this much trouble to turn her from it; to test her desire to know it. But the distraction is working and every time she begins to attempt a coherent thought, a thumb is once against pressed against her clit, causing her to buck and lose herself once more.

Finally as those torturous minutes drag on, the pace never increasing, the friction never quite enough, she lands on the only solid thought that she can articulate.

"Secretly," she whimpers, eyes unfocused on the woman before her, "secretly you want to be that naughty French maid, you just don't know to ask for it." A grin slips across her face as an image flashes through her mind; this was her fantasy, not Regina's.

She hears a throaty laugh from above her and fingers drag hard against her sensitive flesh; just a few more strokes, she's so close. A groan of frustration is ripped from her throat, however, as fingers are withdrawn from her body.

"It's already in the closet," Regina replies, a smirk upon her face. "But I'm afraid that wasn't the secret."

Her breath hitches as the older woman straddles herself over her hips and another ripple of arousal shoots through her as she feels the wet heat of Regina's centre press against her. The cotton sheet is pooled behind Regina and the loss of contact with the rest of her body leaves a chill across Emma's heated skin. Through eyes lidded with desire, she watches as Regina licks the back of the finger that had been pressed inside her only moments ago and is only slightly surprised when that same finger is brought to her own lips. Without thought, she captures it in her mouth, tasting herself upon it as she slides her tongue against it.

"My turn, Miss Swan."

Fingers wrap around her wrist and she watches as her hand is brought up to the brunette's neck. The skin is soft beneath her palm, her fingers ache to trace the contours of this woman's body, map out their own path; but Regina is insistent, the arousal obvious in the deep flush of her chest and the wetness spreading across Emma's stomach as the brunette rocks back and forth against her.

Her hand is dragged ever downwards, over the soft outline of breasts and the tight, flat planes of taut skin over stomach muscles; the finger in her mouth having since been replaced with a thumb, hooked behind her teeth. Every so often, she feels the thumb trace the ridges of her teeth or slide over the wetness of her tongue, only to settle once again, hooking on her jaw, fingers spread underneath her chin.

Emma's hand is pushed between their bodies and she groans as she feels Regina's arousal against her; a constriction in her chest forms that she is yet to name. Her eyes graze the perfect, olive skin as she slowly lifts them, meeting and holding honey brown eyes as she sinks two fingers knuckle deep into the woman above her. She flicks her tongue against the thumb still in her mouth, biting gently upon it as her free hand travels along the smooth skin of Regina's thigh to settle on her hip.

"Guess," Regina says, the word turning into a moan towards the end; Emma finds she can't help the blissful smile that crosses her face as she watches this woman before her.

A thought crosses her mind that perhaps there is no sight more beautiful than watching Regina move, head thrown back and eyes closed - all her attention focused on what Emma is providing. And that idea anchors itself in her mind as she uses her free hand to help guide this stunning woman.

"Secretly," she begins once more, her eyes never leaving the brunette's face, "you like what I do for you, how I make you feel. You want me inside you - my fingers, my tongue; my mouth upon your skin, hot and hard."

As she adds a third finger she elicits a groan from the older woman; can almost see the shiver running down the brunette's spine at those words.

"You like _this_, that I can make you come around my fingers - and I like that it's my name upon your lips when you do." She smiles in triumph as Regina lowers her head, opening her eyes to look directly at her.

"You are full of yourself, aren't you dear?" Regina murmurs, panting as she moves harder against those fingers buried deep inside her.

The smile falters only briefly before Emma answers.

"Right now, I'd say you were full of me." She looks down to her hand pointedly for the briefest of moments, making her statement abundantly clear.

"Funny," Regina exhales shakily, "close, but not quite there, yet."

Emma is left with the distinct impression that Regina is referring to both her current state of pleasure as well as the guessing game.

A thumb traces over her lower lip once more, pulling at it before dipping back in to her mouth. She can't help but close her lips around it, sucking softly, caressing it with her tongue, as she notices the first ripples pass over olive skin.

Studying Regina's face she watches as the moment of ecstasy draws closer and finds herself mesmerized by the myriad of emotions that pass across her face. And as she watches, their eyes locked together, she sees it - the secret buried without voice, behind the layers, protected. She wonders how she never saw it before. The telltale signs of Regina's impending unravelling thrum through her, the rhythm all but broken as a soft keening sound escapes from the brunette's lips.

Emma lets her mouth drop open, wonderment written plainly across her own face, holding the eyes of the woman before her. That secret, so well disguised she might have missed it, would have missed it if she weren't looking. The thumb is pulled from her mouth, hand splayed across her chest and she can see the acknowledgement ghosting across the features of Regina's face.

"You love me," Emma whispers, barely audible, giving voice to what has never been spoken between them.

There is that achingly familiar constriction in her chest and within moments, she feels Regina unravel above her, around her, their eyes never breaking contact.

"Gods help me," Regina moans, arching her back, "but I do." White teeth drag against her lips, biting at the tender flesh.

Emma doesn't slow her pace as she feels inner walls pulsing around her fingers; lets Regina take all she needs, still caught up in the thought of being loved by this fiery woman. The fingernails digging in to her chest barely register, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she thinks that perhaps the marks will be there for days to come.

It isn't until Regina is moulded against her side, warm body pressed against her length as if she were always meant to be there, that she speaks again.

"I love you, too," she murmurs into soft, brunette hair. A gentle kiss is placed against the head currently resting on her shoulder; soon she is rewarded with wide, uncertain eyes lifting to meet her own.

"I can't.." Regina begins, hesitating, "I mean, I don't know how... how do you say it, so freely?"

The breath is warm upon her neck as she searches the brunette's eyes before her, once again seeing that carefully guarded secret wrapped tightly within layers, fragile and breakable.

"I just do," she answers helplessly, giving a slight shrug of her shoulders.

Her breath is taken away as her lips are captured once more, tongue pressing for entrance to her mouth. It doesn't matter to her that Regina can't say the words right now, they have a lifetime together and there is no urgency. All that matters right now is that they _know_, and that is enough.

All too soon, the kiss is broken and breath is warm upon her ear.

"I may not be able to say it," she hears, whispered hot and heavy, "but how about I show you?"

Fingers are already brushing over that sensitive bundle of nerves and she isn't sure if the sound she made was the pleading she had intended or a garbled bunch of incoherent noises. Whatever it was appears to have been the correct answer.

The last thing she sees before her world narrows once more to accommodate just the two of them, is brunette hair slipping beneath those expensive, cotton sheets to bury itself between her legs.


End file.
